Mending Stitches
by The Qing
Summary: P4 1shot. Prodded by his friends, Kanji tries to make amends with someone he hurt as a child. Too bad she wants to tear his head off. Hilarity, Closure and Awkwardness ensue. Rated T for language & slight cruelty toward toy koalas. Kanji and OC centric.


**Mending Stitches**

Author Note: Yet another Megami Tensei fanfic with an OC. Well technically she gets mentioned in Kanji's S. Link, but we don't know much about her other than what he told Souji. I've seen some depictions of her from authors like Fiyerna, she's even named in some, but she never seems to have a personality. So I got to thinking…if Kanji, a sweet, sensitive little boy who loved to sew could turn into an abrasive, violent young man by a few stinging insults, then the girl who also shared the brunt of these insults…ah, I'll let you guys see for yourselves.

_Plot: _Prodded by his friends, Kanji decides to reconcile with the girl he helped and subsequently avoided after he was humiliated as a child. Unfortunately, she's not quite as he remembers and isn't going to forgive him that easily. In trying to tie up the loose ends in his life, Kanji finds out that this one has an attitude, and wants to strangle him. Slight spoilers for Emperor Social Link.

That wasn't her…

There was no way in hell that was her…

No way in hell was that sprinting, tanned, sweat covered Amazon in the moist t-shirt and reeeeealllllly short white shorts, running down the baseball diamond at absurd speeds, the girl he was looking for.

She wasn't nearly that athletic or…or pretty the last time he saw her!

Then again, that was all the way back in elementary school…

Even when she had stolen home, granting him a view of her uniform's back and the name printed on it, he still couldn't believe it.

So as her teammates began to swarm her in congratulations for making the game-winning run, he decided to take a page from her book and run…away…very, very fast.

If he had looked behind him, he would've seen her peering into the crowd, with a bewildered expression on her face that had nothing to do with someone giving her a very hard, congratulatory slap on the back.

(Later)

"So you just ran?" Daisuke asked, the telltales of laughter tinging his question as he, Kanji and the Yasoinaba High School Soccer squad left the Jiiha City's local Stadium.

Kanji glared at the blue-clad soccer player who had fallen behind the rest of his team to talk to him, "Wh-Why the hell would I-? I-I well…" He grit his teeth so loudly that Daisuke gave a slight cringe. "I mean, there was no reason to stick around! That probably wasn't her anyway…"

"Hmmm…" the Senior's face scrunched up in mock thought. "You know, you might be right…" He gave a small shrug. "Even though she has the same name, the same hair color, and is about to the age the girl you're looking for would be by now, oh and you checked that she did go to this school…"

The bleach blonde Junior stomped the ground in frustration. "Her skin's way too dark!"

Daisuke massaged his brow in frustration, Kanji wasn't making this easy. "It's called a tan Kanji." He stated flatly. "You get it from being out in the sun, you think my skin's naturally like this? You should try getting one-." He stopped himself. He was going to make fun of how he spent so much time sewing to actually go out before sunset, but an even better jab came to mind. "But don't worry, I'm sure the parts of her under that uniform are still the same tone of color as you remember."

"There's no way in hell you could know that!" the innuendo had apparently escaped the delinquent.

Well, if at first you don't succeed… "You could check…" Daisuke smirked.

That one hit home, Kanji's face was ablaze with a fierce blush. "Wh-what the hell?!"

He didn't get an answer, as the older teen was too busy laughing. "Oh god! And I thought I had problems with women." Daisuke chortled, briefly remembering how he had tackled those problems with the help of his friends. One of whom he had done a favor by bringing Kanji along.

Kanji could only stare at the ground in response. This was a stupid idea from the start, he began to tell himself. Though he wasn't entirely to blame for it. His so-called friends were just as responsible for it, if not more. But that was only because he made the stupid mistake of telling them about Orika. He could hear them prodding and pushing him even now.

"_Oh you helped her with her bag? That's so sweet; You treated her how? You totally have to apologize; C'mon dude, if you can beat up shadows, saying you're sorry shouldn't be too hard; A true Man wouldn't run away from something like this!"_

Never mind that he didn't know where she was, what she was like, the fact that she probably hated his guts and he had no way to get to her. He should totally go out and find her.

When he brought those facts to their attention, it hushed them up, and for a brief moment, Kanji thought he was in the clear.

Then Naoto just had to take the first of his complaints as a challenge, and within the day despite the incredibly and intentionally vague information Kanji had muttered, she had produced a full name, a current address, age, blood type, GPA, and to the boy's embarrassment, measurements. Sometimes, cool as it may be, having a detective as a friend could be a real pain.

The subject of how he'd get to her was miraculously solved via a betrayal, from his Senpai of all people. Even though he no longer lived in Inaba, Souji made it a point to keep in touch with his friends. When he learned of Kanji's 'problem', he remembered that the Yasoinaba High Soccer Team just happened to have a tournament in her city that week. Which wouldn't have been so bad, if he hadn't been friends with one of the players…

Needless to say, he had 'tagged' along against his will, and was practically forced into the schoolbus.

His brooding was interrupted by one of the soccer players in front of him own complaints. "Man, did you see those girls rooting for the other team? How come all we got was Tatsumi?"

"For the last time, I ain't your damn cheerleader!" Kanji seethed.

That shut him up.

"Easy Kanji," Daisuke warned. "Though to be fair you could've thrown in some cartwheels and jumping jacks." His serious expression broke into another grin. "Would've distracted the hell out of the other team."

A low growl, though more exasperated, than angry was his initial reply.

The Senior decided to push his luck, "And wouldn't you know it, she was having a baseball game in the same stadium as our soccer match. So if you had busted a move, you would've caught her attention pretty easily."

"Eh," Kanji muttered, his spiked head and eyes downcast. "Probably wouldn't have worked," it had been years after all. The odds of her remembering someone, particularly someone who caused her so much hardship, were probably very low. Hell, he had done his best to forget about her. "She probably doesn't even rememb-"

"**TATSUMIIIIII!!!!!!!"** A venomous, piercing and very female voice yelled from behind him.

His previously downtrodden expression turned to one of shock and it slowly looked behind him.

And there she was, stomping towards him, purposeful, furious, black hair whipping behind her like a scorpion's tail in the wind, and still wearing her baseball uniform with those damn short shorts! "Hold it right there!"

"C-Crap!" he grimaced. What was he going to do? What should he do? Sure he wanted to talk to her, he had come all this way to do that! "_But she's pissed_." He'd never live it down if he didn't_. "But she's pissed_!" He owed it to her…right..? "_But she's really pissed_!" Although he left her his phone number in the lockers, she could just talk to him over the phone…"_She's getting closer!" _"D-Daisuke Senpai…" he choked, trying to tear his eyes away from the livid girl. "Wh-what should I-?" he spun around, hoping for guidance, but was only answered with the back of the Yasoinaba soccer captain rapidly retreating into the distance. "What the? **You BALL KICKING PANSY!"** he roared. "Souji wouldn't have run!"

"**TATSUMI!"**

Kanji shook at that. It had sounded loud, uncomfortably so, and unfortunately, very close.

He clenched his fists, trying to squeeze the tension from his bones, grit his teeth to loosen his tongue, and slowly turned…

Looking at her now as she stood before him Kanji could see that she really was that girl from his childhood. The menacing eyes were the same color, her rage filled face still had that mole on her left cheek, the fists firmly planted at her sides were clad in those red bracelets she liked to wear, and the foot rapping at the ground in frustration had that odd but memorable birth mark above it.

Despite the accentuation and sharpness that maturity brought with time, even her looks were easily recognizable, although twisted and clinched in severe irritation.

She stood there for a while, looking him over, that cross expression never faltering.

Kanji's leg began to itch.

"_Why the hell isn't she saying anything? She was screaming bloody murder a second ago…" _he wondered if she was doing this on purpose, toying with him, waiting for a chance to verbally pound his ego into the parking lot tarmac at the slightest provocation. "O-Orika...hey, it's been a-."

"WHAT THE HELL, TATSUMI?" she screamed, leaning towards him so that every syllable blasted into his face.

Despite how close she was, the **very** loud pitch of her voice, and the panic swelling in the back of his head due to these factors, Kanji couldn't help but be annoyed. Was she referring to why he was here, what he had done to her before? How was he supposed to answer that, except with an awkward; "Wh-what do you mean?"

If the brief widening and abrupt narrowing of Orika's eyes were of any indication, she had fully expected Kanji to know exactly what she was talking about.

She pulled back, raising something grey and fluffy, tragically choked in her hand, to the boy's face. "What the hell is this?"

The lowering of her voice did little to ease the object of her ire, and only made the aggression shine further through the brief ruptures in her speech.

The delinquent squinted slightly, and recognized it instantly. Though somewhat deformed by the death grip Orika had around its neck, it was clearly a small stuffed animal, with kind, mahogany brown eyes, a shiny polished oblong of silk for the nose, grey-white fur covering its fuzzy body. And bizarrely enough, was clad in a baseball uniform with a matching cap. It was…VERY…Elaborate.

Her question seemed woefully simple, loaded as it was. "A-A koala?"

"I can see that dumbass!" Orika retorted, shaking the doll in punctuation. "What I want to know is what the hell it was doing in the **GIRL'S** locker room, addressed to me, with a bunch of goddamn accessories, and this!" her free hand darted in her pockets and took out a small slip of paper. "'We need to talk', from Kanji." she read. "Did you get held back in middle school or something? I mean, the writing's so shaky I could barely make out your phone number!"

Kanji winced. "J-jeez, I figured I owed you something for what happened back when we were kids."

Sincere as it was, his answer was about as well received as his last.

"What, and you think by buying me some cute plush toy is going to make up for that?"

Another loaded question, though Kanji didn't answer this time, choosing to lightly blush instead. _"She…she thought it was cute?"_

A sharp snap of the fingers broke him out of whatever small degree of reverie he had found sanctuary in. "PAY ATTENTION! How did you think pulling crap like this would make me feel Tatsumi? After everything that's happened between us, can you actually expect me to want to talk to you? I might've tossed this thing in the garbage!"

The blush gone, the Junior found himself pained and perplexed at her words. Pain from their harshness and validity, and confusion at how hypocritical they were. "If you didn't want to talk to me then why the hell are you here?" he couldn't help but think.

Sadly, the look of shock that passed over Orika's features revealed that Kanji had most definitely not kept this thought to himself. "So-so I won't have to deal with you stalking me! Don't think I didn't see you checking me out from the stands!"

"That wasn't what it looked like!" Kanji stuttered. "I'm a fan of-of baseball, yeah-that's it!"

"Liar, you hated sports when you were a kid! It's a wonder you're still a fit bastard instead of a fat one!"

No matter what anyone's actual weight is, fat jokes have a tendency to sting. "Well, it's been years since then, maybe I've, you know, changed!"

"Oh yeah, changed, right." Orika sneered. "So what is it now, your hair? Oh wait, it's still the same stupid white it was the day I left."

"_Ouch!"_

She wasn't done. "Clothes, perhaps? Nah, you still dress like an emo, biker pirate."

"_Pirate?" _the teen looked down at the flaming skull and crossbones with a wolf-headed dragon coiling around it. Now that she mentioned it…

"Maybe you've sworn off violence, but last time I saw you, you were beating the crap out of other assholes on television. But you never know…" Her arms raised in mock uncertainty. "Right?"

"_Well that explains how she recognized me."_ Kanji thought, mixed emotions of bitterness and gratitude to that damn television crew that had indirectly gotten him kidnapped the previous year. _"And now she's calling me a stupid haired, pirate, asshole…fan-freakin' tastic." _His teeth grit, he had expected the insults, but they still hurt, and with all this banter he'd never be able to tell her… "Orika…" he almost whispered.

"heh, you know, I kind of wish you were checking me out." She chuckled. "Would've put to rest those rumors that you were, you know." Orika's rocked her hand back and forth. "Like that."

That one felt almost like an outright punch, to his manhood, with brass knuckles, on fire. "O-Orika…" he tried again.

Again, his quiet plea went unheard. "Unless of course, you could mean that you've finally come out of the clo-"

"**ORIKA!!!!" **

It was only natural that the sheer daring in Kanji's voice, was enough to cause the uniformed girl to stagger. Astonishment teased at her mind, this boy who she had been verbally castrating for the last ten minutes, had finally gotten back his spine. With all the insults she had piled on him, she didn't know whether to be impressed by his patience or disgusted at his submission. Caution chased whatever amazement she felt though. A loud Kanji was usually an angry one, and an angry Kanji, was usually quite dangerous. Even if he did fight like some kind of cartoon character. Was he going to hit her? Had he really gone as low as striking women? Or maybe he was going to shout at her, call her names and stomp off. Just like old times…

Memories of kicked dirt and choked sobs stoked something deep in her chest. She decided that whatever he was about to do or say, she wasn't going to just stand there and take it, not like before. **"WHAT?"**

His breathing his hard, mouth frozen mournfully agape, as if something inside him was causing him pain. "First thing's first. Before you go about calling me a fairy or some tired shit I've heard a thousand times, there's something I've gotta tell, nah that ain't right. I mean, there's something I've gotta ask."

"I'll say it again, what?"

"DOYOULIKEIT?"

Jumbled as his reply was, and the words squashed together in a seemingly sloppy effort to conceal their meaning, what it could possibly have meant evoked a much softer "What?" from the girl.

He took another deep breath, and much more slowly, asked. "Do you like it?"

What the hell was he on about, her ranting, his being here, the stupid 'We need to talk' sign he had left in the locker, or perhaps the? "The doll?" she asked, pointing at the stuffed koala in her hand.

"Yeah."

"Why do you care?" Orika asked incredulously.

"_Is this another loaded question?"_ Kanji couldn't help but wonder. It was becoming so hard to tell with this girl! "Well, I did make it, and you did say it was cute, so that's why I care!" he hadn't intended to tell her that he had made the doll, but he was too far gone to notice now. "So, so do you?"

Somehow, something in those words caused Orika to falter. Though not to the extent that she collapsed, or swooned, she faltered. Her stance made rigid in defense, loosened. The hold on the toy's throat bore only the minimum firmness to keep it in her hands. And those hard hateful features, faded into askance as she looked over the small creature before her. "You made this?"

"yes." It was a small affirmation, but it was somehow more sincere for it.

She gently massaged the koala's crumpled form, delicately smoothing the creases on its uniform. "Why?"

Unlike the other times he had answered, Kanji responded confidently and quickly. "I remembered how much you loved koalas when you were a kid and I wanted to make you something special to apologize." He paused, waiting for her to retort she had a new favorite animal or that it was a complete hackjob. She didn't, and he pressed on. "I wanted to give it to you in person, to say sorry, because I was a complete and absolute prick to you when we were kids! This might sound a little selfish, but I want you to forgive me for that!"

Orika rubbed the silken nose of the soft marsupial, letting the liquid fabric flow around her thumb. "Kanji, it isn't that easy. I can't just, I'm-. If you'd been paying any attention to the last twenty minutes, I'm still really angry at you."

To her surprise, Kanji didn't look away, or growl, but smiled. "That's another reason why I came here. I didn't just come here for me, I came here for you. I've had people help me handle my anger and now it's my turn to do the same for you. I want you to channel that anger and let it run wild and free before it rots you up inside. You ought to fulfill those urges that keep you up at night, that frustrate you and hold you back. Orika…" He took a brief moment to recall that story Yosuke had told him, the one that had solidified the headphone-wearing boy's bond with Souji. "I want you to beat the shit out of me."

The startled look on her face almost matched Yosuke's description of Souji's after he had said more or less the same thing. "What are you some kind of masochist?!"

A brief guilty image of Orika in a revealing dominatrix outfit pouring candle wax on his bound, nude, whipped form sprung unbidden from the risqué portions of Kanji's brain. **"NO NO NO NO NO NO NO, hell no!!!!!!!"** he screamed, trying to banish the hotness his imaginings had instilled in his every part of his anatomy.

"And what's with all that Dark Side of the Force, George Lucas, 'channeling my anger' and 'fulfilling my urges' nonsense?"

"Will you stop asking questions for one damn minute I'm getting to that!" Kanji retorted. "Listen, please. I feel awful about how I treated you. I've been sorting out my issues a lot over the last couple of years, and I've fixed most of them, but I keep coming back to you. I keep thinking of how angry you must have felt, how you tried to make friends with me only for me to push you away. I thought you were the reason everyone was making fun of me, that it was all your fault." Suddenly the asphalt under his shoes seemed very interesting. "I had no right, no damn right. I was a miserable little kid, who tried to make you miserable, tried to bring you down with me. You know I, I didn't even care that you left town. I was all like 'Good Riddance!'" he gave a mock wave, hand fervently wishing to wipe away his anguish with the gesture. "Because I was afraid to admit to myself, that you left because of me."

"Kanji."

"So don't you dare refuse this or say it won't solve shit. Because you deserve this as much as I do. You among all the people I've scared or hurt deserve this. You insulting me, scaring me shitless, did that feel good?" Her nod was shameful, but honest. "Then do more of it, call me an ass, a failure, a faggot, or whatever. Hell, if that isn't enough, you can hit me anywhere you want. Punches, Kicks, anywhere Orika, anywhere! And I won't move a muscle! I saw you swing that bat and you were fantastic with it, you can bring that out of the sports closet and smash my god for nothing face in. I don't give a damn how bruised my ego or body will get, I ain't leaving you until you feel better! You hear me?" He beat his chest, the faintest traces of tears framing his eyes. "Do it!"

Now it was Orika's turn to clench her fist. It was true, it was all so true. Every time he had screamed at her, pushed her, called her **ORCA **(she wasn't even that fat!), there was always a little weed of anger rooted in her sadness. When she had left Inaba, that sorrow passed, but the anger had remained, subtle, causing barely a ripple in her usual good-natured temperament. But whenever she thought of Kanji, it not only came back, it surged. She wanted to do all kinds of things to him then, say and do things she never had the courage to do when she was younger. She wanted to hurt him, hate him. So many violent urges she had funneled into her intense home runs and frantic sprints. And now, here it was. THE golden opportunity to do it, to make him cry for a change, she could beat him and she knew he wouldn't lift a finger. She could yell at him, tell him he was a coward, a pervert, a sissy, tell him how utterly worthless he and his offer was to her, how much of a loser he was. Most of all, she could tell him, at long last, finally tell him…

"**I'M SORRY!!!!!"**

That was it, no barbs at his sexuality, no trauma to his body (especially his privates), no revving of engines to announce a car roaring in his general direction, nothing. And it confused the hell out of Kanji. "Sorry, what the hell are you apologizing for?" seeing her tremble slightly and hug the koala close to her chest, only added to his bewilderment. "I'm the one who treated you like shit!"

"Screw you! You said I could do whatever I wanted you bastard, and I'm apologizing!" she screamed, only to softly add. "It was all my fault."

"What was your damn fault?"

"You! What you are!" she pointed, her other hand holding the koala in anxious wanting. "It was all my fault to begin with. If I hadn't broken my bag and you hadn't tried to help me patch it up, those kids would never have made fun of you. And because of that, because of that!" she sobbed.

Once again Kanji ran a hand through his hair and looked down at his clothes, gaining an inkling of what she was getting at.

"More than you calling me Orca, what really hurt the most was seeing you like this! What you became, what I turned you into!" Both arms were holding the doll now. "You used to be such a sweet, kind, shy boy, and then all of a sudden you were beating people up and killing grizzlies with you bare hands."

"That last one is just a rumor Orika."

"It doesn't matter, the point is, is that, every time I looked at that stupid bleached white hair and those punk black clothes, I was reminded of what I did to you. And Mrs. Tatsumi's face whenever I saw her wait for you during detention, it was so sad that…" she swallowed. "Worst of all, a part of me still thought that I didn't deserve your insults. I wanted to hate this new you, but I couldn't, and that made me so angry in a way that you can't possibly believe. Because I deserved it all, because I ruined your life." Small rivers of tears shone orange and violet in the light of the fading sun, running down her downcast face.

At this, a dozen different thoughts could've been occupying Kanji's mind; how Orika had revealed the source of her anger, how she really was the cause of his thug-like attitude, or how she was taking refuge with the stuffed animal he had made. But the only thought that did, was how much this sucked. He didn't come all the way here to make her cry, hell he should've been the one crying, on the ground, in severe need of a doctor. She was supposed to kick his ass, and instead she was apologizing to his face. _"Okay, alright Kanji, somehow you've managed to totally screw up this 'reunion' thing, so you have to fix it."_ He thought. _"How am I going to fix this? Shit! Crap! She thinks she ruined my life! How stupid and full of yourself do you have to be to…no that's that takes guts to say, and I even thought she did ruin it way back then." _Her weeping was getting louder now. "_I don't want her sad! I want her to be happy! And my life doesn't suck, my life is awesome! But how do I convince her?" _Inwardly, he had an idea of how to do it. But it was a lot sappier and definitely cornier than his original plan of having her bludgeon him with a baseball bat.

Orika didn't hear Kanji move forward, she didn't hear him rifle through his pockets. She did however feel him flick her forehead. "Oi, Orca!" The unexpectedness of this action, caused her to shoot him another death glare. He grinned in response and slipped something into her hand.

Still fuming at the flick, she looked down to see Kanji smiling, in a way more real than the frenzied one from earlier or the sad one he now wore. And to her joy he wasn't alone. It was a simple photo, pretty recent at that, it was of a group of friends, a rather odd bunch if she said so herself, but they were there, they were around Kanji, and they were happy. "K-Kanji, this is, this is great how did this happen. No offense, but you're not exactly the cuddliest guy around and-HOLY CRAP IS THAT RISE KUJIKAWA??!!!"

The young tailor laughed slightly, seeing her enthused was, refreshing from the angry and morose condition she was in before. "Yeah that's her, don't ask me to prove it or anything, she's filming some movie in Britain or something." Those long distance phone calls could be a real bitch to pay off after all, damn Teddie. "But that ain't the point. You see everyone there?"

She nodded, smiling. "Quite the ladies' man aren't you?"

"That ain't the point either! And there are dudes in that picture too." The small spark of mischievous delight in Orika's eyes didn't escape him; he had seen it far too many times in those of his friends. "Don't you even go there! The point is, is that I met these people because I was a major douchebag." His companion looked eager, worried, but greatly anticipating what he had to say. "I know that sounds weird, but it's true. If I wasn't the violent, insecure, pansy-ass punk I was when I got out of elementary, I would never have had anything to do with these guys, or even gotten the balls to talk to you like this (which was their idea by the way). So I might not be the smartest guy around, hell, I'm pretty stupid, but even I can see that I've got you to thank for them." Said Kanji. "And believe it or not, you might've even helped save the world.

"Whuh?"

"Uh, you heard that, sorry! I thought I was just thinking that part and, crap!" Kanji squealed.

Orika let out a shy and cute chuckle one would expect from a demure young lady and not a hot-tempered athlete. "It's fine Kanji, I'll let that pass. I'm just glad that I didn't ruin your life, y'know?"

Oh he knew, and this was fantastic. She was happy, he wasn't dead and the koala he made was resting nicely in her arms. He could just leave things alone, catch up with the soccer team and be back in Inaba by dinner. That would be that, there wasn't any need for any more questions. Girl he made cry in the past was now smiling and, well, she wasn't quite the same girl she was back then, was she? Just like he wasn't the same boy before. "Did I?"

"Excuse me?"

Kanji scratched the side of his face, hesitant to reply, with fingers that Orika noticed were finely manicured. "Did I ruin your life?" he said, taking note of her bronzed skin and still somewhat sweaty attire. "You see, this whole tough guy stuff? It was all just my own way of pushing people away so they couldn't hurt me, so they couldn't reject me. And looking at you now, and don't take this the wrong way, I see someone totally different from the girl I knew before. Your more outspoken, athletic and _(really really hot, like hell I'm saying that)_ well the you before would never have had the nerve to rip into me like that. So did you change like I did, so you wouldn't get hurt? Is this you real, or is it just an act?"

Her face lightly frowned. Lips puckering like she had eaten something sour. The thought of telling him it was none of his business came to mind, and was promptly kicked aside and told to shut up. "When I moved here I thought of it as a fresh start, away from Inaba, away from you. I never wanted to be hurt that way again, and I came to the conclusion that the reason I was hurt was because I was a weak-willed person. So I decided to become more assertive, give myself a no bullshit, no nonsense attitude and be more open and active. I even went so far as to throw out most of my skirts because I thought they were too sissyish."

"That's not a real word."

"Shut up." She shot back. "And it worked out pretty well, everyone began to know me as a stubborn, energetic, tenacious little girl who loved sports and Chinese takeout. I made a lot of friends, in fact you've seen most of them play with me on the team, but the idea that the person I was was all a façade, that the person they liked was a fake, never truly left. Maybe I became this way because if I had been this girl when we were younger, I could've defended you when you were getting insulted for your hobbies or beaten you up when you were mean to me." Calloused fingers were stroking the koala in her arms gently. "Then I realized something, pretty recently I'm ashamed to say, last May I think, that I never ever thought of becoming the old Orika. I tried to do it, give up the ghost, but feeling shy and bashful like before felt wrong, and even my friends thought it was all a hoax to grab some guy's attention by acting more feminine." She remembered how her saying she wasn't interested in guys was taken completely out of context and the madness that followed that. "I had been pretending to be a gung-ho action girl for so long that I think I really became one." A sweeping gesture was made, the kind made to initiate an introduction. "I can't go back to the way I was Kanji, and I don't think I even want to."

Kanji was silent, he clearly wasn't expecting an answer this deep, or this complex for that matter.

"I chose to be this way and to tell you the truth, I kind of like it."

"But that's terrible! You should be who you really are! Your true self!"

"How about you Kanji, can you go back to being the meek little tailor boy?"

"Maybe." Said loud, big tailor man replied. But even he couldn't imagine returning to the shy insecurity of his childhood. He was brash, reckless, headstrong and pretty damn dim. And all that felt right. "No, it's so far from what I was, but if I tried to go back, I'd probably be living a lie, just like before."

"Wow, that was sentimental." Orika taunted.

"You should talk!"

Sport shoes tapping hardened tar, and delicate twirling of a braid, were all the warning Kanji got before Orika went up to him and patted his shoulder. "I'm fine with who I am, so I guess this is the real me, are you fine with who you are?" Kanji's head bobbed. "Then I guess you're really you, maybe."

This was perhaps the most exhausting conversation Kanji had ever had. The talks he had with Souji paled in comparison, but that was probably because he was pretty silent for most of them. "You know we never really answered my question?

The hand left his shoulder as if it had grazed on something sharp. Which was utterly absurd, Kanji wasn't wearing that particular jacket that day. "There's no easy answer."

"Eh? Yes or no, that's all I really need. Your monologue was nice, (I know what a monologue is), but it never really told me what I wanted to know."

"God Kanji, it isn't that simple!" she groaned, things had looked like they were looking up, and now this! "You called me a whale, yelled at me, made me feel so much like crap, that I didn't want to be me anymore. But at this moment, I'm good; I've never felt better. I've got friends, I'm part of a sport that I love, and I'm happy for the most part. I'm sure you didn't ruin my life, but you sure as hell did something to it?"

"Feeling's mutual." Kanji rubbed the shoulder she had touched a moment ago. "So where does that leave us?"

A completely lame but appropriate reply came to Orika's mind. "Alright this is going to sound really crazy. But how about, we changed each other's lives?"

"That sounds-" completely lame and appropriate Kanji thought. "-really lame but kinda reasonable."

Silence, golden and very very tense.

"This is so awkward." Orika said, not even looking at Kanji.

"Tell me about it." Kanji coughed, following suit.

More of that deliciously pregnant silence.

"Should we thank each other?"

"What?"

"Well rough as things got, our lives became pretty good after we met. So thanks are in order?"

"Eh…."

Tension, sweet tension, even the cicadas didn't utter a sound.

"No?"

"It's not that I don't want to it's just-"

"Yeah, it's been a long day."

"Right, right….Hope you like the bear."

"It's great but now half the team, the ones that don't know about you and our history, think I have a secret admirer."

Kanji coughed. "Really? And the other half that do?"

"They want to beat you up." She gave an agitated snigger.

"Hehe-'kay, um, Congratulations on winning your game though."

"Oh so you were paying attention! You should, er, tottaly come to our next one. If you want to that is."

In light of the team's desire to assault him, he didn't really think this was a good idea, but it did pay to be polite. "Sure, if I can get a ride from Daisuke-senpai again I'll-." For some reason, Kanji hadn't realized that the bus probably left several confessions ago, until now. "Shit! How the hell am I supposed to get home now! Mom'll be worried sick and I don't even know my way around this city!" he panicked, looking this way and that for a taxi or a bus. "This is bad, this is-what's so damn funny?"

Orika had taken to looking at the Investigation Squad photo, shaking her head and snickering lightly. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad for this but, I don't understand how you managed to land 5 girlfriends and two good looking guys as your posse."

Kanji's eye twitched. "The blonde's a guy."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Because he kind of looks-."

"He's a guy damnit!"

"Alright, alright, jeez, don't get so defensive..." she huffed as she wiped the dried rivers from her cheeks. "It's not like you made out with him or anything like that."

Silence

"Right?"

"Yeah-yeah whatever, now-."

"Oh my god!"

Kanji so wanted her to go back to crying. "Forget that King's Game crap!"

Then Orika did something Kanji would never forget, not laughing because that was pretty predictable. She asked him if he needed a ride home.

(Later)

"Here's you stop man." Orika announced as they parked in front of Tatsumi Textiles.

The other occupant of the vehicle said nothing. Trembling hands released her stomach, hands which had thankfully not wandered too north or south for her liking as they had scrambled in terror earlier that day. After handing her a stark white helmet, their owners simply fell out of the seat in a crumpled heap. "I didn't even know mopeds could go that fast."

Orika seemed to take slight offense at that. "It's not just a moped, it happens to be a Vespa."

"It don't matter, your driving sucks."

"I'm an excellent driver! Just ask my new hood ornament!" she teased, dangling the baseball-playing koala in front of the castrate teen.

Seeing this, despite how his body still shook with fear, Kanji couldn't help but find it cute. Which made what he had to say all the more harder. "I guess this is goodbye then?"

Without a moment's hesitation, she brought out the tiny bat he had made for the doll and lightly bopped him on the head. "Idiot, I'll be seeing you around." she chastised, strapping the helmet on her head. "I come here with my mom to shop at Junes every once in a while, so I might just look you up if I feel like it."

This sent Kanji back on his feet. "You shop here? How come you never tried to contact me?"

"I thought you were still an asshole."

"Oh yeah…" Unsurprisingly, he found himself even more grateful for the big megastore that had been the bane of the town for some time.

Faint rumblings from the bike's small but freakishly powerful motor, however, heralded the inevitable parting. "Kanji…" Orika's eyes were peering at the fuel gauge. How funny was this? All that talk of being tough and assertive and she couldn't even look at him to say goodbye. Every illusion she had of him, the image of a hateful monster she had imposed upon him, were all gone; parted like fog in an afternoon breeze. Their farewell wouldn't be permanent, there was no way she was letting it be. Still, it would be a shame to leave with a casual "see you later" or something boorishly formal like "good night." Today had been a special one and it needed something remarkable to end it. "Look I…" she turned to look at him, but he had vanished. _"Great, now he's afraid of my driving skills. Shoot! Just when I thought of the perfect way to top off this circus he goes ahead and runs off like he did back in the stadium! And why is the front door of the store open? It's night, I don't care what the coach says; you're just as likely to get robbed at night as you are at 8 in the morning! What the hell is he thinking leaving the door like that?!"_

So deep she was in her mumblings that the feeling of warm cloth encircling her throat almost escaped her, the sensation of a pale moonbeam sewn into thread as it went across her firm shoulders. Yet, alertness did not come, the urge to rev the engine in reverse and ram the guy behind her wasn't present. The cloth was allowed to tie itself into a knot strong enough to survive the absurd velocities she traveled but loose enough so she could breathe easily.

The nervous boy behind her put the finishing touches on wrapping the white scarf around her neck.

"Thanks." The tailor murmured

There was no looking back, she didn't do that after all, if he wanted to be seen he would have to look her right in the eye as she pressed onward.

"Thanks." She said.

The distance between them grew, the heat of exhaust blowing past his leg fading with each second. He had thought of something smooth and suave to say when she left, but as usual words weren't his strong point. **"ORIKA!**" he yelled. "**IF YOUR BOYFRIEND MAKES YOU CRY LIKE I DID, YOU JUST TELL ME AND I'LL KICK HIS ASS SO HARD HE'LL BE BLEEDING TEARS!"**

Streetlights illuminated the Vespa's rider as she paused. This time she turned around, smiling. There was just something appealing about hearing something as unexpected as that. Stuff like that left you defenseless and utterly flattered, not that she couldn't best him. In a town as quiet as Inaba, it was all too easy for Kanji to see those grinning lips part and say, "I don't got one!"

As the red taillights disappeared around the corner, Kanji thought he heard a very quiet, and shy "Yet", ring into the night alongside echoes of glee and buzzing engines.

**THE END**

_Author Note:_ My longest Megami Tensei fanfic ever, hope you enjoyed it. I hope I made the interactions between Kanji and Orika believable. The resolution may have seemed a bit out of left field, but as this was a one-shot these two needed closure, otherwise I may have needed to write a sequel or spin-off, or something. Funny story, Orika was originally supposed to be a track star, but since I realized I had made Kenta (one of my OCs) too much like Ken of Persona 3 in terms of appearance (not character, the former has much less lethal designs for Souji), and by extension I was making her too much like Yuko. I changed her sport to baseball halfway through writing this, but it fit well surprisingly, seeing as how she could now beat Kanji up with a baseball bat. And it let me slip in a few references to a certain anime I absolutely adore, bet you can't guess which one! Oh yeah, I usually don't put a lot of swearing in my stories, so I'm sorry if I ever repeated certain expletives too many times in a row. To make up for the semi-angst and light emotional Kanji-bashing-cuddling-then teasing, here's an omake featuring an alternate ending. I also apologize if the setup was contrived, but to be fair, even Kanji found how the world seemed to be pushing him to talk with Orika a bit suspect. Be sure to read and review!!!

OMAKE

"Then do more of it, call me an ass, a failure, a faggot, or whatever. Hell, if that isn't enough, you can hit me anywhere you want. Punches, Kicks, anywhere Orika, anywhere! And I won't move a muscle! I saw you swing that bat and you were fantastic with it, you can bring that out of the sports closet and smash my god for nothing face in. I don't give a damn how bruised my ego or body is, I ain't leaving you until you feel better! You hear me.? He beat his chest, the faintest traces of tears framing his eyes. "Do it!"

Orika just stared at him, then shrugged. "Okay." And pulled out a .45 Magnum Revolver.

"Wait I didn't say you could-Where were you keeping tha-?"

Then Orika totally popped a cap in Kanji's ass.

**THE END**

Or maybe you'd prefer…

OMAKE 2

"Then do more of it, call me an ass, a failure, a faggot, or whatever. Hell, if that isn't enough, you can hit me anywhere you want. Punches, Kicks, anywhere Orika, anywhere! And I won't move a muscle! I saw you swing that bat and you were fantastic with it, you can bring that out of the sports closet and smash my god for nothing face in. I don't give a damn how bruised my ego or body is, I ain't leaving you until you feel better! You hear me.? He beat his chest, the faintest traces of tears framing his eyes. "Do it!"

Orika just stared at him, then shrugged. "Okay." And pulled out a blue, electric bass guitar.

"Is that a Ricenbaucke-?"

"LAUNCH TIME!!!!" Orika screamed as she swung the instrument of murder.

The rest was silence, and Kanji screaming as he was sent flying over the horizon**. **_"Bet she doesn't even know how to play that thing!"_

**THE END**

OMAKE 3

Kanji coughed. "Really? And the other half that do?"

"They want to beat you up." She gave an agitated snigger.

Attempts to give a good-natured chortle were swiftly shot down by a savage feminine war cry. "THERE HE IS GIRLS, LET'S GET THAT GIGGLING BASTARD!"

Rather than receive true closure on his issues, or a heartfelt, tender reconciliation with Orika, Kanji got a mob of angry bat wielding girls chasing him all the way too Inaba. "Where's a Vanish Ball when you need one?!"

**THE END**


End file.
